#Orphan!Hazel

[gundamfight]

[blujayonthewing]

so I've got a bunch of short little unconnected vignettes I've written about a few of my OCs, and a few of them I like and kinda wanna share but the thing is I'm not... actually sure what to do with them ? like, logistically? one of my friends will sometimes write little snippets about his paladin and post them to the facebook group for that dnd campaign (which, sidebar, is my favorite thing I get SO HYPED every single time and I wish more of my friends did that) BUT... I got people not on facebook who know about my blorbos and maybe 👉👈 they also would wanna see my lil written snippets about them 👉👈 but I guess I'm a little on the fence about posting very short bits of out of context writing to my art blog...? but then again I'm probably overthinking it 🤔

[abdy-18]

sxf headcanons

just bc im bored hasgjh

Twilight sleeps in jeans

[REDACTED] was the youngest of his group of friends, so he was the only one who had to lie about his age to join the army.

Even if nowadays Twilight is a very tall man (he is 1'87m) when he was a child, (after his parents died), his growth was affected due to malnutrition that he had being an orphan in the war, so he was shorter than a child of his age should be.

Loid is the one who chooses most of Anya's outfits.

I think Anya is going to be short even as an adult (I don't think she's going to be taller than 1'60m.) she will always be the shortest of her friends. 😭 haskhdh

I don't remember where I saw it, but here on Tumblr someone noticed that when she's with Yor, Anya wears one ponytail, while when she's with Loid, Anya wears pigtails, and now my mind can only picture Loid brushing Anya's hair in ponytails during the crusader arc. man i wish i could draw

Considering that the sxf story takes place in some year during the 60's, I can imagine Loid and Yor taking Anya to the premiere of the 101 Dalmatians (1961) or the Jungle Book movie (1967) in the cinema.

Loid and Anya have put on a little weight since living with the Forger's. Since Operation Strix began, Twilight cooks 3 healthy meals a day and Anya had no good quality food at the orphanage.Both of them look healthier now :D

When she grows up, Anya has the same tolerance for alcohol as her mother.

I feel like Anya's hair color only looks pink to us viewers, in universe her hair would be a reddish color.Something like this idk:

The same with Yor and Yuri's eyes, they look fantasy colored to us (red) but in the universe they are more of a hazel color.

[ramen8008]

Give me Percy asking his mom if he can invite some of his orphan friends for the holidays. She says yes of course so he does. He invites Leo, Hazel, and Frank. And though Sally knows of them this is the first time she meets them.

So she opens to see this kid wearing nice clothes as if they are just wrong. His hair made as he continuously resists the urge to run his hands through it. He's shorter than she imagined. He's also too skinny. And it turns out he's Leo Valdez, the kid who can summon fire, who built not only a giant mechanical dragon but also the flying ship they travelled thousands of miles on past multiple oceans and monsters. The kid who Hera and Gaia presented themselves to as a kid, the kid who's the only one in centuries to possess the power he does only for it to be one that was a reminder of what killed his mom. And he's in her front door, a too skinny, fidgeting kid with a small gift bag.

Then it's Hazel and Frank (and Nico but she's mostly used to him). The girl who came back from the dead, the one who can bring out cursed jewels from the Earth, who was a black girl alive at the time of World War, and here she is. And she's this adorable kid who's well dressed and presented who calls Sally "Ma'am" and thanks her.

And then Frank who can turn into any animal in existence, the one who killed a titan while he was turned into a bear, the one who's a master archer, the one who's the son of ARES. And he's this pudgy yet buff adorable kid who seems awkward and gives her a small thanks as he hands her a cake box.

All this and she's amazed because although she knows, seeing them like this just reminded her that they're just kids.

Anyways they have a nice dinner, Paul plays games with them, Hazel has a sailor's mouth when she's playing card games, Frank has a horrible poker face so he just turns into a reptile or something to hide his face, Leo is always trying to cheat but never admits it, ( he makes a little robot to freak Paul out so he can change his dice).

Nico ALWAYS wins in card games except uno in which he loses horribly each and every time.

They all compete to wash the dishes and help Sally but she tells them no and to Percy's disappointment tells him to clean the dishes. Which he does, by controlling the water. And they lose it. They try not to show but they can't believe that Percy Jackson, the one who has defeated Kronos, who went through Tartarus, who fought Ares when he was 12, rejected immortality, and so much more. And here he is washing dishes for his mom while pouting about it.

[utterlyotterlyx]

Wicked Game

The world was on fire and no one could save me but you.

Eris x CassianSister!Reader

Summary - Eris did everything, everything he could to protect you. He'd never thought that he'd ever have a mate, that he wasn't worthy enough, until he met you, Cassian's sister and everything fell into place.

Warnings - death, blood, mentions of torture, heartbreak, kidnapping, shattered bonds, angst.

I'm so sorry.

Eris would find any reason he could to not leave you. No reason was good enough to pull him from your arms, to disrupt the bubble of serenity he had made with you.

He had been dumbfounded, the shock evident on his face, when he had met you, spied you across the ballroom wedged between Cassian and Azriel, both of whom growled at any lingering eye. It was obvious that you felt uncomfortable as you trailed behind the inner circle, with your shoulders slightly hunched and eyes glued to the floor. You were too beautiful to feel so out of place, forest green fabric clung to your figure with shimmering gold embellishments hanging from your shoulders, and a high slit up your right thigh, exposing golden skin and tight muscle.

It had snapped for him then, the moment your scent soared through the room, fresh rain and rosemary with a hint of oak that he inhaled, gulped in and held onto, allowing it to drown his lungs.

That night was the first night he had spoken to you, the bond hadn't snapped for you yet, and he was rather content in listening to you, learning about you without the pressure of the mating bond in your words. He watched your full lips move as you told him who you were, Y/N, a sister of the inner circle, Cassian's little sister, Rhys' and Azriel's by proxy.

No wonder they were snarling at any male who tried to get close to you.

Eris couldn't keep his eyes off of you, ones that reminded you of aged whisky, swirling pools of amber and speckled gold. You told him about your love of helping others, evident in the school you had opened for orphaned Illyrian children where you taught them how to bake and paint, to sing and dance, you helped them heal from the trauma inflicted upon them in the Illyrian camps.

After that night, Eris had found any reason he could to venture to the Night Court, citing political cooperation as the reason for his visits which wasn't exactly a lie. Mor wasn't happy about it at first, but Rhys had told her they were working on a way to usurp Beron, to change the course of the Autumn Court for the better, that Eris wasn't as bad as he seemed.

Eris had visited you at your school that Rhys funded without question, your wings were cruelly taken from you as a child, no one could stop it, and the crescent moon scars peaked out from the back of any dress you wore. You had assured him it was fine, that they rarely ever caused you pain whilst you rubbed small circles into the skin of the small child wrapped up in your arms, soothing his anguish away with your touch.

He had noticed your gift on his first visit to the school, how the small girls whimpering in pain found immediate peace after your touch, you were able to take the pain away, able to bring peace upon the most tormented of souls. It made him adore you even more, as if those spheres of brown and sage green didn't have him in a chokehold already.

"You're her mate?" Cassian's hazel eyes ignited with rage, his fingers dug into the arms of his seat, threatening to rip the leather apart if he'd apply just a whisp more pressure.

Eris had told Rhys on his fifth visit, he had told the High Lord that the bond had snapped for him at the Autumn Ball six months ago, how he hadn't told you and was happy to wait until it snapped for you too. Then the cavalry had been called in, and he found himself sat in front of the entirety of the inner circle, all of them present but you.

"Yes," Eris couldn't show his nerves, telling your family of the bond was something he foresaw you doing together, as a couple, but you were still none the wiser to his affections. "She doesn't know, and I have no intention of telling her. I would have already."

Azriel thought about it, how much happier you were when Eris was around, which had become often for the heir. The wide smile that showed your gleaming teeth, the twinkle in your eye as you answered his genuine questions, the more often than not moments where you dazed into the sky with that lovestruck vacancy whilst holding one of his letters in your fingers.

No one was particularly thrilled about it, not after what had happened to Mor, but amongst all of the bickering Azriel was the voice of truth, "She loves you, Eris," it pained him to say it, to say that he saw it even if the bond hadn't snapped for you yet. Azriel turned to Nesta, the closest thing you had to a sister, "You know it."

Nesta nodded sadly, you were everything to her, her best friend, a sister by extension, you understood her pain and torment, you had helped her to heal, to put herself back together piece by piece, "Yes," she looked to Cassian, "She does. She told me."

Hope jolted in Eris' chest, his heart beating a thousand miles a minute, the need to reach you almost overwhelming him. Eris didn't see the eldest Archeron sister stand to soothe her mate, he didn't hear her tell him that this was what you wanted, what made you happy, that it was what you longed for.

Cassian looked to the Autumn heir, a softer expression falling over his features, "Y/N deserves the best, she deserves everything good and pure. Can you give that to her? Can you give my sister the life she deserves?"

"I can," Eris showed no doubt, and suffered under the gaze of the inner circle, he'd suffer for however long he needed to if it meant you, gloriously perfect you, were waiting on the other side.

"Not right now you can't," Mor stood at the back of the room, arms folded against her chest as she looked down on Eris with a mixture of disgust and fear, "Not when Beron is still ruling over Autumn, she wouldn't be safe with you, not when Beron suddenly decides he wants to hurt us."

"I can protect her-"

"You couldn't protect me."

Eris had always carried guilt with him for how things had played out with Mor, but this was different, you were his mate, his fated companion.

"I couldn't stop what happened to you, and I'm sorry that I was the cause of so much pain for you, for all of you. I wish I could go back and say no, that I would be brave enough to spit in his face and defy him," Mor knew he was telling the truth, that deep down he did regret everything that had happened, and her gaze softened, "Y/N is my mate, I have spent months getting to know her. Y/N is bold and beautiful, the most caring soul I've ever encountered, parts of all of you live within her. The best parts of you. She has Cassian's humour and Mor's wit, she loves painting and reading and nature, she welcomes the shadows like old friends, and she's consumed by her love for you all. She loves you all so much."

"He's right. I do," gravity fell from beneath Eris as he turned to see you standing in the doorway, no one had noticed you creep in, no one had heard the door open and shut, no one had heard the padding of your feet sound across the floor.

The sun surrounded you, almost illuminating your figure as you leaned against the doorframe, your long pale green dress brushing against the stone floor and eyes flittering across the room before finding Eris. Your mate.

"You stupid male," you told him with a smirk, a curled strand of hair fell over your shoulder, your arms rested at your sides and your eyes held a playfulness to them.

It clicked, that golden thread tying you to him that was once quiet, searching for the other side, now hummed, no, it sang. "You knew?"

"Since your first visit to the school when you scooped Pippa up into your arms and sang that Autumn lullaby to her, she's never let anyone hold her like that. I knew you were meant to be mine from that moment," you tugged on the bond and his hand shot to his chest at the sensation.

"Yours," the word fell from his lips and the room pulsated with that uniquely vibrant power that radiated from the fulfilled mating bond, it was stifling, nothing anyone could move against.

Eris had moved to you then, you pushed yourself from the doorframe as he approached, allowing him to take your face in his hands and run them through your hair whilst you became lost in his whisky amber eyes. He pressed his forehead to yours, the tips of your noses touching and his breath fanning across your face, "We can wait, I don't want you to feel pressured into accepting this."

"Just kiss me, Eris," your voice was barely a hush above a whisper, you peered up at him with pleading eyes, telling him that you were ready, that you wanted this. Him.

The gap between you closed and his lips met yours in an embrace that could only be described as reality shifting. It was like your soul had ignited, like it was now entwined with a twin flame and they danced together in perfect sync. Eris' lips were soft, and his kiss was so tender and gentle as his tongue swept against your bottom lip, it savoured every piece of you that you offered to him, and he drank you in without doubt, with no care at who was watching.

You were his forever, and he was your eternity.

Eris couldn't breathe as he hurtled through the halls of the Forest House.

You were meant to be in Velaris, you had told him you'd be there waiting for him.

It wasn't safe to leave you in Autumn without him, it had been decided that you'd reside with your family whilst he was away dealing with treaty issues with Spring and Day by order of Beron, which had become easier now that Tamlin and Helion knew of your mating bond.

Eris had entered the House of Wind with only one thing on his mind, you.

The bond between you was muted, he hadn't felt you for a couple of weeks, which was normal. You had decided to mute the bond, turn it off, whilst he was away, he didn't need to be scared and pulled away from another meeting when pain passed down the bond toward him. The pain you took from others seemed to travel to him and he had always thought something had happened to you. So, it was easier to turn it off, to send the odd tidal wave of adoration down it every now and again so he'd know you were waiting for him.

His world tumbled when he entered the house to bewildered expressions once he asked where his mate was, only to be told that you had returned to Autumn two weeks ago, that you had received a letter from him and disappeared with a love sick grin of barely contained excitement on your face.

"I never sent that letter," he told Cassian whose eyes widened with horror and fear, he screamed for Rhys and Azriel, for Mor and Nesta, telling them what had happened and that Eris hadn't felt her in two weeks.

Eris disregarded Rhys' words, to find her together, as a family, he couldn't wait. Eris winnowed right into the main foyer of the Forest House, sniffing like a bloodhound for a speckle of your scent.

It lingered in the air, rosemary and oak, the freshness of last nights rainfall mixed in with something else he couldn't quite decipher, and he sped toward it. Eris ignored all of the guards and servants who looked at him with pity and sadness, he ignored the solemn tinge to the atmosphere, he just needed you. His mate. The love of his life. His everything.

"I love you," the words fell from your lips, you couldn't stop them. The fire roared beside you from the place on the floor, your body entangled with your mates as he traced faint circles around the crescent moon scars on your back and peppered kisses into your hair. "I love you more than the wildflowers crave the autumn breeze. I love you more than the ocean loves her creatures."

Eris rolled you over as tears pooled in the corners of your eyes, he caressed your cheek and ran his thumb over your wobbling bottom lip, "I love you more than you could ever love me, my sweet, perfect mate," he pressed a kiss to your lips, his warmth wrapping around you like a blanket, "I never dreamed that I'd meet somebody like you, I never thought I deserved a mate, or anyone for that matter. Then you came, you came and made my life make sense, you gave it a purpose."

You listened intently, you felt his touch rolling down you arms and across your stomach, already so familiar with every scar and perfect imperfection of your body as you told him, "If I ever one day leave this world, I will look ahead to the next adventure and hold its hand, and I will look back with my other entwined in yours. Wherever my soul may wander, I know it will always find you. Our love isn't made to last just one lifetime, it's made to extend across universes and worlds. Even when I am stardust, floating around in nothingness, when the last part of my soul begins to fade away, I will love you."

Eris followed your scent, that melody of beauty, all the way down the deepest parts of the Forest House, his stomach twisting in agony as he realised where you were beckoning him.

Turning a corner, all the air in his lungs was ripped from him, he called your name, pleading you to sit up from the stone table where you lay. The room was covered in blood and discarded weapons, iron clung to it. To you.

Eris took a step forward, the only light in the room was on you, the light had always found you. It came from a skylight that displayed the stars above, it illuminated you in their glow, and your head was tilted to it, as if you were idly staring at the sky and dreaming like you usually did.

A sob caught in his throat, "No," his face twisted and he reached for you, taking your cold hand in his own as he forced himself to look at you.

Your eyes were open and staring at the world beyond the skylight, your lips were bloody and chapped, there was no light in you, no golden hue to your skin, no joy in your eyes. There was nothing. Eris wasn't breathing as he looked at your body, as he looked at the fourteen long tally marks that had been carved into your stomach and the purple bruises coating you hips and legs, as he found your still tear stained cheeks and the emerald ring he had proposed to you with still on your finger with a depleted shine.

Eris cried, he roared as he felt that fire consume his body, "I love you. Please, I'll do anything. Please," he begged as he pressed his forehead to yours, stroking your matted hair with his hand, tucking it behind your pointed ears of which the tips of had drooped slightly.

He pressed his lips to yours, that burning fire that caused your own to dance now waltzed alone.

Then he felt it, he felt the bond completely shatter, he felt that tendril of golden thread pang back to him like broken elastic. A once burning love that consumed everything he was, now a broken tether dancing in a storm cloud with nothing to attach to, with no light on the other side.

Eris was broken.

He didn't feel the bodies enter the room behind him, he didn't hear their sobs, he didn't hear Cassian's cries as he collapsed into Nesta. Eris looked at you, he looked at the side of your face and remembered you lying next to him, hands raised to the ceiling as they played with his own, he remembered how your chest vibrated when you laughed, he remembered the love you gave him in your eyes and all of the promises of ruling together and creating your own herd of beautiful red haired children. Promises of changing the world.

With a strangled voice, Eris whispered to you, tears streaming down his face and pattering against the stone where your lifeless body lay, "Even when I am stardust, floating around in nothingness, when the last part of my soul begins to fade away, I will love you. It was always you, my sweet, perfect mate."

Authors Note

Ngl, I actually cried writing this. I think I got a bit carried away.

I apologise to myself and to you all profusely.

[aroaceleovaldez]

was thinking about next-gen kids and decided to doodle a couple. elaborated thoughts below:

Iphis is named with the same naming conventions that Sally used when naming Percy - primarily, mythological figure who had a good fate. Nice for Percy to honor his mom by naming his own kid the same way and Annabeth gets a fun nerdy mythology name. Also sending good vibes to their kid. Plus middle name directly in honor of Sally, of course.

Specific myth is Iphis and Ianthe, with the idea that a.) it's gender-neutral so works regardless of kid's gender and b.) not only does Iphis have a good fate, but arguably nothing bad happens to them ever and they get helped out by like three whole pantheons who show up in a literal parade and they live happily ever after. Percy and Annabeth are pushing for the BEST vibes possible.

(Also I am a very strong proponent of the "I don't think they'd name their kids after dead family/friends" so none of them have that)

Iphis of course inherited the Jackson family early grey hairs <3

Virginia is named after Juniper (cause Juniper is specifically implied to be Juniperus virginiana). She's probably been childhood bffs with Iphis since Iphis was born.

Chuck is Chuck. I gave him a Yankees jersey cause you know he's being raised as a sporty kid.

Do you ever think about how OP Frank and Hazel's kid would be. It's ridiculous. Quadruple legacy, including 2/3 of the Big Three. Frank by himself was already so OP the gods had to nerf him. Hazel came back from the dead and Frank kinda just said "nope" to dying that one time. Hazel presumably has every power that Nico has which is. A lot. Not to mention what Hazel has been shown to just be able to do on her own (including but not limited to SINKING AN ENTIRE SMALL ISLAND). Ares/Mars kids can functionally be completely invulnerable sometimes and also have some limited necromancy. Combo that with Hades/Pluto kids also being hard to kill and having necromancy as one of their main powers. Not to mention how Pluto geokinesis might combo with Chloris (goddess of spring) powers? And this kid is 100% being protected by both Nico (who is probably a deity by that point) and probably Pluto himself as well? Hello?

Anyways Hazel and Frank's kid is a total powerhouse. Possibly functionally immortal. Easily strongest demigod of her generation.

I like to think the latent Chloris legacy would crop up (probably in combo with Mars and Poseidon's plant aspects) and give them an accidental Persephone-type theme and that's fun. Frazel's goth daughter who takes after her grandmother (and uncle).

Figured since Frank is Canadian and Hazel is from Louisiana they'd go for a French name. The flower theme was not intentional on their part it just happened. Law of demigod naming conventions appears nonetheless.

I figure Leo might not have kids of his own but he probably still hangs around with Hazel and Frank so of course he's going to make their kid a cool thematic robot pet. He's probably her godfather or something.

Ronan is literally just some kid who showed up at the Chase Space who coincidentally was a legacy of Freyr and could shapeshift. Magnus and Alex obviously can't have kids cause they're dead, BUT some orphan with essentially a combo of their powers just shows up on their doorstep? Their kid now.

The ironic part is of course their shapeshifting powers just happen to be because they're distantly related to one of Annabeth's friends. Ronan finds himself suddenly gaining two parents and two cousins (Iphis and Lily) in rapid succession.

He only picks up Magnus' last name though cause Alex has 100% disowned her mortal parents.

He has a seal flipper cause shapeshifting and apparently "Ronan" means seal. I just wanted to draw those two showcasing their shapeshifting a lil bit.

Might try to doodle the other next-gen kid thoughts I had at some point but idk when. anyways yeah.

[trendywaifus]

I’ll do you one better and plant the little teeny seed of Anby walking in (unintentionally…or was it) on Nicole straight up in a session with the reader…her thighs pressing hard down on there hehe

mmm, i think it’d be funny to have billy walk instead😭 cw: gn! reader, suggestive themes

“ you’ve been on that computer damn near all morning, (name). “ your girlfriend grumbles, strutting into your shared room with her, arms crossed over her chest. you say nothing for a few moments, typing and typing away on the keyboard. you didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her presence. her brow twitch with annoyance. matter-a fact, you barely said anything or interacted with anyone this morning! all you did was wake her up with a good morning kiss and mutter to her that you’ve made breakfast for everyone and hopped straight onto the computer. you didn’t even show up for breakfast despite telling her you were going to!

“ (name). “

click, clack, clack, clack, click. were you ignoring her?

nicole let’s out an irritated grunt before growling your name through gritted teeth.

“ (name)! “

instantly, you perk up, finally rotating your chair around to look at her. your eyes skim over her annoyed body language and raised a puzzled brow at her. “ yes, baby? did you and the others eat breakfast yet? “

agitated by your lack of awareness, nicole huffs irritably, holding back the urge to come over and smack the living daylights out of you. “ don’t baby me! i was trying to talk to you for the past minute! you were suppose to come eat with us but you didn��t show up! what were you doing on that computer anyways? “

guilt flashes across your face before you cast her an apologetic smile. “ i didn’t mean to ignore you. i figured skipping out on breakfast would help us save food for this week. i was actually trying to create a budget and manage our savings for this month, c’mere. “ you beckon her with a finger and she walks over to you with curious eyes to take a closer look. nicole’s quiet as she inspects the little project you were making.

“ i was also trying to fix up our website’s layout to look more professional so—“

“ you dummy, “ nicole mutters softly, lightly smacking the back of your neck before stroking it tenderly. “ i can do all of this. you don’t have to do this—that, managing our money, our website, and purposely skip out on breakfast for us to—“

“ but i wanted to. “ you gingerly pull nicole into her lap, holding onto to her hips. “ don’t worry, it’s just a meal. you handle everything so i wanted to lessen the load off your shoulders. plus, you’re pretty bad with handling money—“

“ i am not. “ she denies sheepishly, loosely wrapping her arms around your neck, cheeks turning a subtle red. you lean into her with a teasing smile, your chest pressing up against hers.

“ are so. mostly because my boss is such a kind person. “ you lean in closer and closer until your nose gently grazes nicole’s and her soft breath mingling with yours.

“ wh-what do you know about your boss? “ she questions softly, you circle nonexistent shapes into her hipbones.

“ enough. buying those orphan kids toys, paying me and the others more than what’ll you have for yourself, dare i say more? “

a noise similar to a grunt leaves her. instead of stammering and arguing back, she grumpily pouts. “ i’m sick and tired of you thinking you know me.” her tone sounds anything but annoyed.

you giggle, playfully puckering your lips at her. “ i’m sorry, kiss? “

“ ugh, you’re such a mess. don’t ask me for a kiss and do that. “ nicole murmurs, lowered hazel hues peering into yours. you chuckle and take it upon yourself to kiss her lips. the taste of her cherry lip balm makes you hum with delight. nicole kisses back, firm and languid. your palms feel up her curvy sides and she holds your jaw in place with one hand while the other is hanging off your shoulder.

“ from now on, i’ll handle the budget and the money you give to me is shared between us. but, that doesn’t mean to go spend it all so carelessly.“ you mutter between soft kisses, nibbling on her plump bottom lip. she gives your jaw a light squeeze as acknowledgment, mismatch colored-nails gently digging into the flesh.

“ fine, i’ll agree to that. “ she’s more focused on your careful hands touching her body like an expensive vase. you’re treating her as if she’s worth over 3,000,000 dennies. don’t even get her started on your one million denny kisses. she exerts her weight down on your lap, earning a muffled groan from you.

“ what are you doing? “ you ask breathlessly, moving your head to the side to moan when nicole does it again.

“ awarding you for being my most loyal employee~”she purrs confidently in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear before descending. she plants sweet, open-mouth kisses down the column of your neck. your hands grasp for the fleshy part of her thighs to withstand her assault. “ nic—colee. .” you drawl and nicole finds herself grinding her ass down, wanting more of her name to drag deliciously off of your tongue.

“ blame yourself for riling me up like this and it’s barely noon. it’s only fair i get to do this. “ nicole tuts, sliding her tongue over a sensitive spot on your neck that she knows you’re weak too. her hand drags down your chest and stomach with the intention of slipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your bare skin. before she can go further, the door creaks open and billy peeks his head out. you and nicole immediately freeze up. “ boss? (name)? where are you? we have to get ready—oh good heavens! “ billy apologizes frantically for his intrusion once he discovers the situation you and nicole are in. fuming with frustration, nicole angrily snatch the wireless mouse from the desk and hurls it at billy’s head and he quickly slams the door shut just in time for the mouse to end up crashing into the wall, destroying it. she’s just about ready to jump up from your lap and chase after him but you hold her back.

“ BILLY, HOW ABOUT YOU KNOCK ON THE DOOR FIRST BEFORE YOU BARGE INTO MY ROOM, YOU’RE SO GOING TO GET IT, YOU BIG DUMMY!”

“ N-NICOLE, MY MOUSE! “

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | teen | 1.7k | tags: established relationship, rockstar!eddie, soft boys, Steve takes care of Eddie, Vecna aftermath | @steddielovemonth Love is a warm hug by @unclewaynemunson | AO3)

They made it. They really did it.

Corroded Coffin play in front of thousands of people in a sold-out Madison Square Garden. Every single person seems to know their songs by heart and is singing them back at them loudly. They cheer and scream their names and Eddie feels like he's flying so high he's on his way to the moon.

This moment right now, right here, is what he has been dreaming of ever since Wayne gave him his old acoustic guitar for his fourteenth birthday and showed him how to play his first song. He always knew he'd end up here, deep, deep down. Never lost hope.

Well, that's not exactly true, but nobody knows that but Steve.

Because it was Steve who helped him to find that precious hope again, to rekindle the wild spirit inside him that only wanted to be heard with his music. He had almost lost that gift along with his left nipple.

The bat bites had been bad, of course. Pieces of his flesh were missing, gnarled scars littered his body, even as he decorated it with a plethora of new tattoos. They'll always be there.

But the worst part hadn't been the flesh wounds. It had been the infection. Robin hadn't been so far off in her fears back in the Upside Down, because while neither he nor Steve had gotten rabies, the bat's saliva hadn't been the most sterile substance to get into his wounds, and more than one bite had become infected as a result. The worst one had been on his left forearm and had caused some severe nerve damage.

The doctors had been able to save his arm and most of the feeling in his hand, but relearning how to play the guitar had been excruciating. The pain had been really bad, but even worse was the frustration, the white-hot rage he felt at this cosmic injustice. It wasn't enough that he was basically an orphan (because his father could be dead for all he knew, Eddie hadn't heard from him in years at that point), living in a trailer park and being labeled the town freak who everyone still thought had murdered several people. No, he also had to get mauled by demonic bats in an alternate dimension, nearly die, and fight his way back to his feet only to find out that he couldn't do the one thing that had always given him at least some peace of mind. His ticket out of this hellhole of a town, just gone. Poof.

It had been one of those summer days, so hot and humid that it felt like warm water was filling his lungs and dripping out of every pore of his body. He had been sitting on his bed in just his boxer shorts and a crop top because any clothes were too much, with his guitar on his lap. Eddie had been so focused on getting this one simple tune right for hours now, his fingers raw and aching, his nerves screaming at him to please stop. Only he couldn't.

He couldn't stop, because to stop would be to give up. It would mean accepting this new reality in which Eddie Munson had lost a vital part of himself; his music.

The pain had been almost unbearable for the better part of an hour by now, but it wasn't until his fingers cramped so badly that he couldn't even hold it anymore that he threw his beloved acoustic guitar off his lap and onto the floor with enough force that it was a wonder it didn't break.

"Fuck," he yelled with bitter resignation, rising like bile in his throat and spilling out in the form of hot tears from his burning eyes, and then "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck," a repetitive mantra of pain and sorrow as sobs broke from his aching chest.

He was brought back from the brink of a meltdown by the pressure of a warm hand on his knee, another hand cupping his burning cheek.

"Eddie, hey, man, you're scaring me. Can you look at me, please?" Steve's voice filtered through the anger and grief that constricted his chest, and Eddie lifted his wet eyes to meet Steve's hazel ones. They were bright and warm, even with his eyebrows knitted with worry. They had become close friends over the past few months and Eddie could read his face like an open book.

"That's good, you're doing so good," Steve's voice soothed some of the ragged edges of the broken pieces that had once made up a whole person. His warm hands found Eddie's left hand, still bent into a misshapen claw, and began to massage it gently.

It felt heavenly, even if it still hurt, the gentle but firm pressure slowly loosening the tightly curled digits. Eddie's breathing had slowed, as had his heartbeat, and by the time Steve had finally stopped massaging of Eddie's hand, the sun had begun to set outside.

"Thanks," he had whispered, suddenly ashamed of his outburst, "you didn't have to do that." What he meant was, 'You shouldn't have had to do that. You shouldn't have had to see that.'

Still holding Eddie's hand loosely in his, Steve simply said, "I know. I wanted to. I always want to." The hazel eyes searched and held his again. "You want to tell me what happened? You don't have to, but I have it on good authority that I'm an excellent listener."

That had made him laugh. "That's only because Birdie speaks for both of you when she starts rambling."

"Takes one to know one," Steve had teased back, and the rest of the tension had seeped out of Eddie's body. He had told Steve everything then, about his hand, his fears, his shattered hopes and dreams. Steve hadn't lied, he was a great listener. Attentive and calm, he let Eddie talk without once interrupting.

After Eddie had finished, Steve had been quiet, clearly thinking about what Eddie had told him. After a while of comfortable silence, Steve finally broke it by asking, "Is it possible that you want it too much?"

"Huh?"

"To be able to play the guitar like you used to, I mean. I feel like maybe you want it so much that all the pressure you're putting on yourself is making you so tense and stressed that it's only getting worse."

Eddie wanted to protest, to tell Steve that there was no such thing as wanting too much, but then he stopped himself. Steve had proven himself to be far smarter and more insightful than anyone had ever given him credit for, so instead of denying the possibility outright, he had asked, "What makes you think that?"

Inexplicably, the question had made Steve smile. "When Nancy left me for Jonathan, I was kind of desperate. It sounds silly now, but I thought I needed to find a girl to help me get over it, to prove to myself that I was still attractive, still a catch. Still lovable." The smile had vanished from his face at those words. "I tried so hard, it wasn't even funny anymore, just kind of sad. Robin even had a whole board dedicated to my failures. She told me to just be myself, to let it come to me instead of chasing it like a dog after a bone. It was hard to hear at the time, but you know what? She was right."

Eddie only ever knew the Steve who never had any trouble picking up girls, so it was strange to hear him talk about a time when he clearly didn't.

"So all I'm saying is, maybe take it easy on yourself. Play for the same reasons you started, not because you want to recreate someone you no longer are. None of us is who we were before. None of us ever will be. But you can become someone new. It's up to you who you want to be instead."

After his little speech, Steve had gotten up to get them a couple of beers, and they had just hung out for the rest of the night, the guitar forgotten. It stayed in a corner of his room where Eddie wouldn't see it for a week, until Eddie felt a genuine desire to play something that had been stuck in his head whenever he thought of Steve.

It was the first tune he could get through on his guitar. It was the first song he ever played just for Steve, before he leaned in and caught Steve's lips in a soft kiss for the first time. It became the song he hums whenever Steve wakes up from a nightmare, either while holding Steve in his arms or over the phone when he's on tour.

So it's no surprise that this is the song they play as an encore at Madison fucking Square Garden.

"Hey everybody. This last song is for someone very special to me, so please let's hear it for the love of my fucking life". The crowd goes wild and Eddie winks at the camera that projects his face onto the big screens behind them. "This is for you sweetheart, thank you for always believing in me. You knew I could be someone new long before I did. I wouldn't be here without you and I don't want to be. Nothing makes sense without you. This song is called 'Someone New' and someday I want to play it at our wedding."

He gives it everything he's got, forgetting the last 90 minutes he's been on stage, to make these four minutes the most intense of their whole set. Everyone holds up a tiny flame with their lighters, and when they're done, there's a reverent silence before it breaks into thunderous applause. They cheer, they whistle, they scream.

Eddie doesn't hear any of it, his senses attuned to just one person he's spotted at the edge of the stage exit. He puts down his guitar, walks over to the tall man waiting for him with open arms, and sinks into them as if coming home.

"You did it, baby," Steve whispers into his ear and Eddie just buries himself deeper into his boyfriend's body. "I'm so, so proud of you."

"I love you," he replies simply, the only thing that matters with strong arms wrapped around him, the familiar scent of Steve filling his senses, and the steady beating of Steve's heart against his, the metronome of his new life as sure as ever.

It doesn't matter that they made it, not as much as the man holding him tightly, lovingly.

Eddie's new life is right here in his arms.

[bandydear]

I think the sad thing about the Rue Royale family is that they really are operating the best that they can considering everyone’s circumstances.

Take Claudia for example: She’s a 14 year-old orphan who has never ever been loved. She was abused from the moment she could crawl by her aunt, exposed to creepy uncles at the boarding house, and has had 0 friends. A goose egg. Louis and Lestat were the first people. Ever. To love her. The only people who would care if she died. And they loved her. They poured all the devotion that bounced off each other’s defence mechanisms onto The Child.

So she’s a spoiled teenage apex predator who has had zero socialization her own age trapped in eternal homeschooling with BPD The Clown and the vampire embodiment of self-loathing. She was never going to be Normal. The fact that she grows up to be so socially capable is really a testament to her willpower.

And they’re fucking trying to raise her right too! Lestat’s parents did not give a shit about him. If he wasn’t being abused he was being neglected. Beatings, withholding food, withholding love*, he never learned how to read! So he feeds Claudia, he teaches her to drive, to play chess, to play piano—all the things he is proud of. All that nourishes his soul he gives to Claudia. He gives her a priceless amulet all while thinking she’s impermanent. That she won’t last.

And then there’s Louis. Louis who always had the expectations of “carrying the family line”. Louis who was told to marry a woman named Hazel by Paul the moment before he died. Louis, whose familial and social rejection for what he is (in layers) sent him spinning out in self-destruction and what he find on the brink of annihilation was Claudia. His beautiful daughter. She’s the embodiment of all his hopes and dreams. Only child to all the expectations of an eldest child. He brings her to the lake his dad took him and Paul to when he was a child and they catch fireflies. He does her hair and he dresses her like the little rich girl he’s always wanted to parade around at church.

But Claudia is a person, not a doll.

And Louis is still caught up in the living drama of his family. Louis spends Claudia’s entire life mourning the mortal man he never was. He wants to make his mother proud. He wants her forgiveness for Paul. He wants to be there for his sister and her family, and he wants to be a married man with a child of his own. His war with his own nature extends to his family. He cannot accept being a vampire the same way his mother never accepted his queerness. And, just like his mother, he withdraws love as punishment when his family does not follow his rules. He cannot accept a daughter with sadistic house cat tendencies, and he can’t accept the horny Shakespearean menace he married. He punishes Lestat when Claudia goes off to college (typical empty nester behaviour) and he punishes Claudia when she starts having a life outside of him in Paris.

And yet! They were happy! For years! Happy until what was always going to happen happened. Lestat has always had a wandering dick and Claudia was always going to want independence and companionship outside of her parents and Louis was always going to be jenga tower of emotional stability. On a tight rope of personality disorders and abusive upbringings they actually lasted longer than a lot of vampire covens.

[nerdyfan1]

Evil Peri AU

Made a rough draft for this. Notes, caps for ppl without GoogleDoc and notes under cut :)

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1-_BB_21bDBDK2LigWOqzQNEnaaehG9tqthlmxMRJVm8/edit

• Another idea I had is after the murder they end up on the run as now Dev is technically an orphan. Not sure if I’ll go that direction tho.

• Peri knows about Hazel through Dev in the beginning of them meeting but, doesn’t know about how his parents are her fairies. He finds out in the second half.

• I might do something with Daisy Do later but, I wouldn’t get your hopes up. Idek if I’ll really do much with this au I’m easily distracted 😅

• Mostly Peri focused (ik rare for me) but, a decent amount of Dev focus cus he’s pretty important to Peri’s character just like Peri is important to Dev’s character.

•Btw yes in this AU Irep is like really nice if also mischievous. Bro loves pulling harmless pranks. Tho idk if he’ll do anything in this au.

[romanoffsbish]

Cooking With Timmy

Florence Pugh x Pregnant!R

Warnings: Brief mention of loss

Florence entered your shared home with a long, drawn out sigh, it'd been a long week away, and all she wanted was a glass of wine, a decent meal, and to fall asleep holding you.

Her plans faltered though when she stumbled into the hallway and peered into the kitchen.

There she found a curious little boy on the floor with an array of seasonings, pots and pans.

"Hey guys!" He shrieked at his iPad that was recording. "Welcome back to Cooking with Flo, I'm Timmy Pugh, her fill in until she returns."

——

Florence bit back a chuckle, as well as a sob because this is the first time he'd called himself by her namesake that she'd heard. It'd been about three years since you and Flo had taken the orphaned boy in, so this was monumental.

Back then your relationship was still fresh, it'd only been a year, and though it was blissful, you'd only just said I love you to each other in a way that mattered before you got the call that changed everything. Being parents one day was a conversation you'd vaguely had with each other while drinking yourselves silly. It was believed to be a far off subject to broach when things got serious. Not on a random Tuesday.

So, when your close friend Laura was in a life ending accident, you couldn't exactly deny her final wishes that designated him to be given to the both of you. His father wasn't around, and her chaotic family wasn't an option. She clearly had faith in your relationship, you confirmed that when you found out she signed you up for parenthood before you were even a couple.

She just hadn't told you since she thought she had time, but the universe is fickle that way.

Florence and you wasted no time, you got your paperwork together, and went down to the courthouse the following morning to legally bind yourselves, it felt rushed, but even with the fear of the moment backfiring in the future it was still easy to say I do. Florence was your forever, you always knew that deep down.

With marriage came the name changes, Y/N Pugh had a ring to it, and it also offered security over the smooth custodial transition of your son, Timothy Pugh, who at the time had only just turned three when you took him in.

It was easy enough for him to trust you since he knew you well, but he still had quite a hard time. Every single day came with blow out tantrums that would put a strain on anyone. Florence was sometimes too exhausted from her long days on set to handle his episodes with kindness, so you decidedly took turns.

When she was clearly at a low energy level you'd send her to relax, then you'd scoop the boy up, and sing him a lullaby you recalled his mom would sing to him. This always worked. Because when it was your turn to be spread too thin Flo would pick up the slack. She'd put the emotional toddler on her hip, and animatedly describe to him her day as she made dinner.

Every time you'd reconvene, and the parent that couldn't handle the tantrum would take him and offer him gentleness as they got him ready for bed. He'd go down in his bed, but without fail he'd wind up between you both.

It was complicated, but with therapy, and the sweet reminders of his mother, things began to look up around his fifth birthday. Once he started grade school he was able to cycle some of his energy into recess or making friends.

Soon enough he was the happy go lucky boy you remembered him to be before he lost his mom. He'd actually been calling you mama for the last year now, you beamed the first time.

Florence however had been met with Flossie. Something he was familiar saying since he was two, so it just carried on, but it always worried her that he didn't feel comfortable calling her mom. She wondered if her work schedule made him feel less valuable, or as if she was only a guest in his home that she partially owned.

Then she heard him continue his monologue, her hazel eyes closed as a couple happy tears streamed down her face, her heart felt full.

"Mommy Flossie is really busy right now," he informed his crowd of zero. "Mama said she is working on a new movie, because she's like a superstar or something. How cool is she?!"

He paused to shake a salt shaker over a pot that was actually empty, but his mimicry of Flo's mannerisms was shockingly spot on. Especially as he lifted a wine glass of juice to his lips, Florence felt a wave of embarrassment at being so incredibly transparent to her son.

"My friend Jackson told me she's British." He frowned as he shrugged, not understanding the implications of his friends words. "But then my friend Amelia said she's actually a superhero," he relayed excitedly, "I like her idea better."

He stirred the faux contents of the pot with a wide grin that Florence admired through the recording on his screen as he rambled on.

"Spying on our son are we?" Florence jumped as you suddenly spawned behind her. She turned to face you immediately, her hands took their rightful place, one on your protruding baby bump, and the other cupped your cheek.

"He's recorded like five episodes today."

Florence deeply pouted, "I'm missing it, huh?"

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around her neck so you could pull her into a soft kiss, your baby bump slotted to the side of her body as she melted into the affection.

"One of us had to work my love," you reminded her. "Acting was always your dream, becoming a parent wasn't on your 2020 Bingo card."

"Neither was a global pandemic that forced us to move into the same house two months into our relationship if we wanted it to work. It was like the world wanted to make sure we never broke up." Florence smiled at the thought.

"Yeah, 2020 was an odd year," you teased, and kissed her smirking lips, the kiss was heatless, but passionate in its own regards. It lasted an entire minute until your sons voice cut in.

"Mama! I want to make dinner tonight."

You stared down at him with a practiced quirk of your brow. Florence watched as the two of you stared the other down until he softly sighed, "Mama, can I please help with dinner?"

"What a polite boy, thank you for offering to help and using your manners baby, but I was going to order in since this one just got home," you gently crushed your sons dreams, you couldn't help it, but you'd been craving a big mac with extra pickles and sauce all day long.

Florence shook her head though, and scooped the much bigger boy up with an ease that reminded you of her Marvel workout regimen.

"I could really use a sous chef so that Mama and your baby sister here can eat something besides Maccy's." Florence evaded your hand as it attempted to slap her in the shoulder. "We better hurry bubby, Mama seems hangry."

Timmy giggled wildly on her hip as she ran the pair of them to the kitchen. You smiled at the scene as it unfolded before you with a hand on your bump. Rubbing it fondly as you saw the wonderful mom your wife was that she herself didn't exactly see. Florence might not always be home, but she was always there when she was, and that alone counted for everything.

"Mama! Go sit down and relax!" You smiled, and shook your head at your sons outburst.

"Okay, you two make sure not to burn my kitchen down!" Florence scoffed, "As if..."

Florence and Timmy started by washing all the pots he'd used as toys, then afterwards she rewarded the boy with a kiss on his cheek that made him giggle and her heart soar. Then she propped her phone up and started up a cooking with Flo. Tim's hands and voice were all she allowed on the tape, your son was aware of his exposure to the internets limits so he didn't take any offense. He happily played his part.

The duo decided to try their hand at making a Big Mac for you, vegan patties of course. This led to the blonde gushing about you and the pregnancy on her story as your son filled them in on the things even Florence hadn't seen. It made her feel guilty all over again for having not been here for huge chunks of your lives.

She knew you were right, that she had a career to build so your family would be secure. It didn't stop her from wanting to quit though. Hearing about how tired you've been from the babes mouth made her wonder if the spotlight she found herself under mattered anymore.

When she had a growing boy who deserved her sole attention before your infant arrived, and you who deserved to rest in this last trimester.

Florence texted her manager as your son set the table all on his own. He beamed up at your wife whenever he felt he did something right, and she always praised him, never letting the argument on her phone interfere with their precious time together. "Mommy?"

The blonde nearly dropped her phone as he directed the title at her. "Yes bubby?"

"Is it true that you're a super hero?"

She smirked, "I'm actually an anti-hero."

Timmy looked at her puzzled, he now stood right in front of her wearing the expression so that she could catch onto his confused drift.

Florence dropped to her knees so she could look him in the eyes as she spoke. "That's when the person is in between good and evil. They are trying to figure out the best way to make things work, sometimes they do good, and others they do really bad things. Way cooler."

"What's cool?" You asked as you settled down at the table, Florence froze as your son enthusiastically cheered, "Being the bad guy."

Florence's jaw dropped, she attempted to fix the moment, but fortunately Timmy did.

"She was telling me about her character."

Dinner went smoothly from there, your moans of appreciation told your wife she'd done the food of your heart justice. It made her happy to take care of you, knowing that she was able to give you what you wanted, while making sure your daughter got the nutrients she needed.

Also, it made her feel less guilty being able to take some of the load off of you. You'd never complained, you simply took it all in stride, but she sees the way your smile is tired, and she catches the hand pressed into your lower back.

Carrying a baby is no joke, she knows that, so she does whatever needs to be done when she's home, and after tonight she plans to be here far more often. In a weeks time she'll be done with her current film, and the other's won't start shooting until after your daughters birthday.

When your son saw you getting up with the dishes he stopped you with a hand on your bump, and carried it to the sink for you. Flo scooped him up moments later, and tickled him until he was unable to breathe right.

"Careful Flossie, don't suffocate my baby." Your lover rolled her eyes, then she made her way over to help your wobbly self to your feet.

"You go take a nice long shower my love, I'll handle his bedtime routine." Florence kissed your cheek, and Timmy mirrored her action as he was sat on her hip. "You deserve it mama."

"Thank you my loves," you couldn't hide the emotional timbre of your voice, your eyes glistened in a direct call out. "Goodnight to you then my baby boy, I'll see you in the morning."

Timmy grinned, "We're making french toast!"

"My tummy is already rumbling," you enthused back, then happily slipped off to your en suite.

After Timmy was clean and in his PJ's, she decided to bring him with her to your room. Where she read him a story as he laid on her, and within a few minutes time he was snoring.

Florence carded a hand through his damp hair, she watched him in amusement as his eyes fluttered beneath the lids. Her tired mind wandered to what he might be dreaming about, the possibilities with him are endless, but she is almost certain it's either dinosaurs or fairies.

His obsession with Tinkerbell was her favorite.

"What's got you smiling?" Florence's lips widened when she saw you toweling your hair.

"I was thinking after the baby is six months we could leave her with my parents and take Tim-Tim here to Disneyland." She placed a kiss to his forehead then went on. "He is big enough to ride things now, and he'd love to meet the characters. We can do the brunch with them."

You smiled at her, delighted by her idea, but then your brows furrowed in confusion. "What about that horror film you were excited for?"

"I told them to push the filming to the end of 2024, or to recast me." Florence shrugged with an air of genuine indifference. "They moved it to October, so baby Pugh will be a year old."

"Baby Pugh," you softly repeated, hand softly caressing your bump as you realized you'd yet to give your daughter a name. Even when she was due to arrive within the next two months. Florence's hand joined yours as you stood beside the bed, and before she could soothe your worries she was gasping, "She kicked."

In all seven months of your pregnancy the little girl had yet to let Florence feel the harsh jabs she subjected you to. One time, when Flo felt like sleeping on the couch, she'd told you that you had to be exaggerating. You weren't, and she knew that now. Sometimes you wondered if you watched Flo's "Fighting With My Family" one too many times whenever you missed her. Because you were now absolutely certain your daughter had the potential to be in the WWE.

"I'm glad that brings you joy," you teased through a wince as the little one kicked again, this time much stronger, your belly even shook.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry I doubted you," Flo giggled softly as she saw an imprint form under the skin, and you smiled tenderly down at her as you moved to put your hand over hers. "You should be, it's because she hears you talking."

Florence tried to deny it, but you were already two steps ahead of her. Showing her the videos of whenever she kicks, and how it's usually as you rewatched old family videos. Each shake or prod of your belly followed her laugh or words.

Your wife gently moved the boy on top of her onto the mattress, then stood up, briefly she kissed your lips before bending to be eye level with your pregnancy bump. "Hello Lyla," she tried, but she was met with a sudden stillness.

"Okay, how about hello baby Patricia."

"No," you vetoed immediately, then the both of you felt a powerful kick, baby Pugh agreed.

"I'm running out of names little one."

"Florence, that was two names," you laughed and she looked up at you with a tired smile. "I'm jet lagged my love, please do forgive me."

"Come on then," you paused, taking her hand in yours as you guided her to her side of the bed, "We'll discuss everything in due time."

Florence however flipped your positions, and gently helped you into your side. Then she straddled your thighs, leaving you to quirk a distrusting brow at her. She shook her head, then gestured to the sleeping boy beside you before her hands began to bring you to bliss.

Every press of her hands against your bump was heavenly, and in no time you yawned. It was a miracle that you were still awake when she finally finished. Clambering off of you she moved to sit beside you instead, leaning down so she could kiss all over your face before she landed on your lips with a contented sigh.

"I think Samantha could be cute." You both chuckled when a soft kick resounded beneath her hand that was still settled atop your bump.

"Timmy and Sammy against the world?" You both chuckled softly at your sleepy son's voice cutting through the already sweet moment. "We could be like mommy and be anti heroes."

"Where does that leave me?" You inquired, and he sleepily shrugged, a move that brought him closer to you, he easily snuggled into your side. "At home making all of us cookies of course."

"Oh of course," you conceded, but sent your wife a disapproving, heatless glare over it.

"A cookie might make us less evil mommy," he reasoned. "Mommy's are never as sweet."

Florence had already settled in behind your son, wearing a mischievous grin as she leaned in to whisper: "That's cause mama pours the entire bag of chocolate chips into the batter."

"Go to sleep," you barked. "Both of you."

"Yes ma'am," the two giggled in sync and you couldn't help but to smile at their childish camaraderie. "I love you mama," your sons tired whisper of affection made your eyes glisten. "I love you too bug." Then he sweetly rubbed your belly. "I love you Sammy Pugh."

He giggled as she kicked, "She loves me too."

"Of course she does," you reasoned, settling a kiss to his temple. "You're her big brother."

Florence observed the moment with an adoring smile, but it held an obvious longing as well. It wasn't unlike her to watch moments like this between the both of you, it's one of the main reasons she was so adamant on taking a break.

Timmy deserved her time, and she not so secretly craved his reserved affections.

Then he rolled over, she softly gasped as he burrowed into her chest. "I love you mommy." Her arms wrapped around him tightly, and she shakily whispered, "I love you my lil sous chef."

Florence's eyes sought yours out as soon as his soft snoring filled the space. You'd already been looking at them, neither of you said a word, you just admired the other as a steady flow of happy tears trailed down your faces.

This was all either of you had ever wanted. A happy little family, unconventionally formed, but brought to the now by unconditional love.

——

3,135 Words

❤️ K 💋

[gundamfight]

[solisaureus]

Robin's Solangelo Fic Recs

many of these fics are old or have a lot of attention already, but if you're antsy waiting for The Sun and the Star to come out, here are some solangelo fics to fill your brain with heart emojis!

double-crossed, star-crossed, fingers-crossed by orphan account - 2.2k - During their first kiss, Nico sees Will glowing, but keeps it to himself. Will doesn’t even know he’s doing it until someone else sees them kissing and gets very flustered. Soooo cute

echoes of lies that i told by demigodbeautiies - 29.9k - College AU, Nico agrees to be Will’s fake boyfriend for Naomi’s wedding. He curses himself later when he catches real feelings, assuming Will would never actually see him that way (spoiler alert: he would).

 My memories of you by Fl_utterby - 56.1k - Will is cursed by Niobe to lose his memories, including his years-long relationship with Nico. When he shows up at Camp Jupiter, Nico arrives to take him to Camp Half-Blood in a cross-country quest with Reyna. Bittersweet and soft with a happy ending!

 i could be your hero by sundaysabotage - 10.8k - a few years down the line, now that Percy Jackson is off at college, Nico finds himself in an unexpected position of senior authority at Camp Half-Blood. It’s not easy to reconcile with his own self-image. Light on the solangelo, mostly a Nico character study, but very good!!

The Rose of Paphos by Tundras_and_Taigas - 19.3k - The Aphrodite cabin unearths a magic item that indicates whether the holder has romantic feelings for someone, and discover that Will has a big crush on some person he won’t identify. Nico finds out about this and gets in his head about who that person could be. Feelings ensue! Also has a whole chapter for Mitchell/Connor if that’s your thing. Very cute and soft with a nice take on the Aphrodite cabin.

our lips set the sun by @thebhorror - 4.1k - a soft first kiss that Nico has spent 10 months agonizing over. In-character and sweet with a delightful payoff.

lich by @pinkerpick - 2.6k - content warning for death, torture, injury, and suicide! Since Thanatos was chained while Nico was in Tartarus, he dies many times and always comes back still trapped in the pit. Also light on the solangelo and more about Nico, this is some seriously well-done angst. The follow-up fic, penitent, wherein Nico confronts Hades about the events of this fic, is also very very good!

i bleed for your love by flannelfeelings - 7.5k - Nico semi-unintentionally keeps getting himself hurt so he can hang out with Will in the infirmary, because he is too repressed to just ask Will to hang out. Super well written, heartwrenching character voice, and butterflies-inducing romance!

Austin’s Best Barbecue also by flannelfeelings - 3.8k - Will gets hurt protecting Nico from a monster, so Nico shadow travels against doctor’s orders to Austin to get Will some of his favorite comfort food from home. While there, he accidentally meets Will's mother for the first time. Super super cute and funny, this author has great fics!

 Falling for You (Literally) by peanutbutterapple - 4.8k - Nico is acting weird before he visits Hazel at Camp Jupiter. On his return, before Will can ask him about it, Drew Tanaka pranks everyone with a magic hat that makes the wearer feel their romantic feelings very intensely for everyone to see. So adorable and Nico’s reason for his weird behavior is the best thing. 

Opportunity Knocks by nikkiRA - 35.5k - Nico tries to kiss Will, who freaks out and rejects him. Nico decides the same day to run away from Camp Half-Blood, but is intercepted by some meddlesome gods who trap him in a time-loop. He repeats the same day over and over until he can find out what it is he was supposed to fix about this day. I love a good Groundhog Day AU and this one is awesome!!

 constant craving (however hard i want, i never really get) by @thebhorror - 5.5k - another banger character study focusing on Nico’s unmet (and then met) need for affection throughout his character arc. A very believable and heart wrenching deliberation on Nico’s character arc and how his relationship with Will complements it! 

there are so many lives i want to share with you by penandblankpaper (@kiarrahatesboys) - 8.7k (so far) -  still a WIP but a WIP that slaps, this is a post-ToN, pre-TSatS solangelo mini-quest story. Rachel informs Will and Nico that they need to take a journey with no goal before they go to Tartarus or they will die. Lots of soft banter and gentle familiarity with a bullet train of angst incoming! Please read it (for me) please please please

Bonus: Solace by solisaureus (that’s me!) - 73k - A Will character study to complement all these Nico character studies, this work spans the entire narrative across all three series. This is my longest PJO fic and the one I poured the most love into! Though the fic is about Will and his coming of age, there’s plenty of solangelo in here.  

I (and many of the other authors in this list) also write a ton of other PJO fics so do check those out too!! :) happy reading!!!

[moa-broke-me]

PJO characters as gods:

So there was a post going around about the idea of PJO characters being treated as gods in a thousand years or so, and I like the idea, but some of the godly placements felt a little off to me LOL, so I decided to make my own pantheon. (not sure how to order these, lol)

-

Percy: God of the ocean and all its creatures, of water in general, hurricanes, earthquakes, cities, family, and horses. Titles: The savior of Olympus, the good son, the loyal husband, retriever of the bolt, king of the gods. Sacred items: Stuffed animals, particularly bears (panda pillow pet), any item colored blue, but especially food, like candy or cookies, bull horns, and pens. Sacred animals: All marine life, the black pegasus, the black dog, and the ophiotaurus.

Annabeth: Goddess of war, strategy, intelligence, wisdom, practical knowledge, civilization and the building of houses, the study of history, and the mind. Titles: The general, the architect, favored child of Athena, queen of the gods. Sacred items: Knives, rings, clay beads, coral, silver, and popcorn. Sacred animal: The owl.

Clarisse: Goddess of war, revenge, anger fueled by love, triage and midwifery. Titles: The eager soldier, slayer of the drakon, retriever of the golden fleece. Sacred items: Spears and weapons in general, wool/fleece, and chariots. Sacred animal: The boar. Often depicted bloodstained, charging into battle without armor.

Frank: God of war, animals, change, the transition from boyhood to manhood, of the duality between strength and gentleness. Titles: The reluctant soldier, the changeling lord, the young praetor. Sacred items: Bows and arrows, playing cards (mythomagic), charred wood, and a silver medallion on a red string (the canadian sacrifice medal) Sacred animals: The bear and the bee, both the most common depictions of him as an animal.

Reyna: Goddess of war, patriotism, fidelity, independence, leadership, strength, sorority, and resilience. Titles: The shield, the politician, guardian of Athena (bc the athena parthenos). Sacred items: Cloaks, gold, silver, and oat cakes (oatmeal cream pies). Sacred animal: The hound. Often depicted either shielding a little boy with her cloak or braiding hair with her older sister.

Hazel: Goddess of jewels, caves, broken curses, witchcraft and the mist, art, death and escape thereof. Titles: The princess of the underworld, the queen of magick, the illusionist, the dead girl who rose again. Sacred items: Schist (because... obviously), pencils and oil pastels, gold, shrimp stew (because gumbo), Tarot cards, and caramel candy. Sacred animals: The horse, the stoat, and the black cat. Often depicted either drawing or riding horseback, usually with her older brother, but sometimes alone or accompanied by her husband or one of her friends.

Nico: God of darkness and shadows, death, decay, loss, longing, love of all kinds, language, diplomacy and forgiveness, insomniacs, immigrants and orphans, mourners and outcasts, and sewing. Titles: The bereaved, king of the underworld, the ghost king, the romantic, deliverer of Athena (again, the statue, not the actual goddess). Sacred items: Playing cards (mythomagic), soft suede leather, fried bits of chicken (mcnuggets), sewing supplies, oat cakes (again, oatmeal cream pies), Posca (not the pen; the drink. it's like an ancient roman gatorade), pomegranates, anything colored green or black, and memento mori rings. Sacred animals: The bat, cerberus, unicorns (because unicorn draught), all stray animals, and any animals or insects that feed on carrion. Commonly depicted either weeping or accompanying his little sister or husband. (@yonemurishiroku you're gonna love this one)

Bianca: Minor goddess of death, darkness, rebirth and reincarnation, sisterhood, and the hunt. Titles: The broken promise, thief of the forge, slayer of Talos. Sacred items: a carved statuette of her father, and a bow and arrow. Sacred animals: None. Most often depicted climbing onto the back of Talos, or comforting/bickering with her little brother.

Will: God of medicine, light, summer, and the sun. Title: The healer, the sun. Sacred items: Candy bars, medical equipment, lamps, summer fruits, and anything colored yellow. Sacred animal: The cat.

Thalia: Goddess of lightning and storms, maidenhood, the moon, the night sky, wilderness and the hunt. Titles: Queen of the skies, the hunter, guardian of sanctuary. Sacred items: Leather, golden fleece, the severed heads of dolls (bc of the 'barbie is dead tshirt), and pine trees. Sacred animal: The black eagle. Commonly depicted dressed in black and silver, behind a shield emblazoned with a terrifying face.

Jason: God of clear skies and wind, daylight, law, leadership and fatherhood, heroic sacrifice, child soldiers and the military. Titles: Prince of the skies, the retired praetor, the golden boy. Sacred items: Eyeglasses, dense chocolate cakes (brownies), peaches, swords, silver wire (staples), bricks, and feathers. Sacred animal: The wolf. Often depicted with a spear lodged in his back.

Piper: Goddess of love, the heart, beauty in all its forms, charisma, music, wealth, and fame. Titles: Beauty queen, the snake charmer, the dove, the silver tongue. Sacred items: Knives, jewelry, anything colored in pink or light purple. Sacred animals: The dove.

Silena: Minor goddess of love, specifically first love, regret, noble sacrifice, grieving widows, and disguise. Titles: The young lover, the spy, the bleeding heart. Sacred item: Armor. Sacred animal: None. Often depicted wearing armor while lying on her back, bleeding.

Drew: Minor goddess of beauty and adolescence. Title: The betrayed. Sacred items: Seashells, seafoam, cosmetics, perfume, and really anything with a strong, pleasant scent, like herbs, flowers, or incense. Sacred animals: None. (side note, I made up most of this just because canon gave us Literally Nothing)

Leo: God of fire and the forge, machines, invention, humor, cookery, and runaway children. Titles: The engineer, the orphan, builder of the Argo, the forge, the devil, and the trickster. Sacred items: Tools, oil, cinnamon, cooking utensils, and bronze. Sacred animal: The dragon.

Charles: Minor god of the forge, blacksmithery, and fallen soldiers. Title: Courage of the gods, the young lover. Sacred items: Canned fruit, promise rings, and green fire. Sacred animals: None.

Tyson: Minor god of blacksmiths and the ocean, specifically underwater volcanoes. Titles: General of the Cyclopes, the rising mountain, brother of Percy. Sacred items: Peanuts (because peanut butter), shields, watches and clocks (because of that watch that becomes a shield that he made for Percy), ships, and canons. Sacred animals: None.

Grover: God of animals, nature, wilderness, music, empathy and emotional sensitivity, and the young. Titles; The protector, the searcher. Sacred items: Pan flutes, walking sticks (those crutches he used to blend in), flowers, cheese (bc of the enchiladas), apples, and any kind of plant life. Sacred animal: The goat. Often depicted as half-goat-half-human, sometimes wearing a wedding dress.

Rachel: Goddess of wealth, youth, rebellion, nature, art, hedonism and impulse, and prophecy. Sacred items: Hairbrushes, art, and art supplies. Sacred animal: The yellow bellied armadillo.

Sally: Goddess of the hearth, motherhood, writing and literature, women, and survivors of abuse. Titles: The sculptor, the author, the victor, the good mother, queen among women. Sacred items: food, especially the blue kind, and books. Sacred animal: The snake. Often depicted either holding a little boy behind her or holding up the head of medusa.

If there's any character you want me to do next, please tell me!

[agentrouka-blog]

Killing off Jaehaera was completely unnecessary I mean would it really have changed anything if she was the mother of Aegon iii's children?

I agree that the manner of her death is absurdly cruel, but I also don't mind that GRRM killed the character? I think it's too neat an ending to the Dance to have both lines merge back into one, too much of a suggestion of reconciliation and harmony and healing. (I know, traumatized children, but still.) Jaehaera's death crushes that narrative. The obvious solution is dismantled and they are back where they started: a widowed king without a son to inherit. There's an open question once more, in the wake of her death, and the way Baela and Rhaena make use of a kindergarten-aged orphan ward to answer that question, a show of force and a decision coldly presented, disrupting an event that suggested the option of another intermarriage, to make a big fat point to the lords of Westeros about who controls House Targaryen and that Valyrian ancestry will always be preferred... it's creepy and gross and despicable and perfect. There are no good guys, no lessons learned. The young king may hate dragons but the blood of Old Valyria will run pure on the throne, no matter what, and it's enforced by the girls who are ultimately, most of all, Daemon's daughters.

It's ugly and dark and I kind of love it.

(PS: Ser Denys of Rhaenyra-supporting House Harte, supposedly hired a Faceless Man in Braavos just around the time Jaehaera died, and resulting in the late Hazel Harte's daughter Daenaera becoming queen? That's... quite a coincidence. Or a political conspiracy by those not interested in having Green blood on the throne. Old grudges die hard.)

[sayafics]

Dragon of Dorne - Chapter II

Here is the long-awaited Chapter II. Seeing all the love and support for this series has been amazing, I hope you guys love Chapter 2 as much as Chapter 1 <33

Chapter III (3) is going to have some Daemon/OC moments, which we love. I was going to add everything into Chapter 2 but I have placement at the moment and it'd be easier to post it in two halves, just so there isn't a longer delay in waiting.

Dance of Shadows is up next to be updated, so keep an eye out <33

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

There was a baited silence, the air stifled with the pungent smell of betrayal as Rhaenyra simply stared at the girl who had called her father Kepa.

"Father. Who is this?"

Rhaenyra's voice was quiet, but it was drowning in echoes of dread - she knew, of course she did.

It was hard not to find the similarities between the girl and her father. She had the white hair of a Targaryen that was wisped and curled at the ends just as her own father's. The girl, young and bashful, stood with her shoulders straight and head held high despite the worry that poured off her in waves.

It was a feeling Rhaenyra recognised - the feeling that she may have disappointed someone she cared so deeply for.

Rhaenyra's mind then turned to Alicent, thinking of her hazel eyes - the very eyes she felt watching her every step during her days at the Keep. The very eyes Rhaenyra found herself searching for amongst bushels and trees, even from the heights of her dragon and in the depths of the sea. A colour that had brought comfort in memories that existed far too long ago and yet seemingly felt like it occurred only a moon ago.

Alicent's eyes would grow green as she grew in passion, glowing the very colour of her hometown banners when it called to war.

But this girl - her eyes, whether she was worried or happy, it seemed they would flicker with warmth. Her eyes burned golden in the flames of the Keep, but Rhaenyra was sure the shadows of everlasting darkness would rise along with the sun.

If that was not all, where Alicent's skin was pale from her time confined in the Keep or hidden within the walls of the Sept, where her father's hue grew green and grey from overpowering sickness and the looming presence of death pressed up against his throat, this girl stood in front of her was a rich complexion that was rare to see amongst the people of King's Landing.

This girl was not a child of Alicent's, but there was no denying she was her father's.

Had Viserys raised a bastard? An orphan?

Had Alicent accepted her with open arms and a loving heart?

Would she truly do that? Why?

Why, when she could not accept Rhaenyra's own children, would she accept the bastard of her husband who was to be loyal and loving?

It did not make sense.

This did not make sense.

Viserys remained ignorant to Rhaenyra's calling voice, to her silent pleas and growing confusion. He pretended he could not feel the dragon awakening in Daemon's blood nor the hesitation of his grandchildren as they sat straighter in their seats.

Viserys forced himself to spare a glance upon his other children - Helaena was hunched over a quaint object hidden in the palms of her hands, Aemond sat rigidly upon his seat, face bare from emotions and his seeing eye caught on the figure of his sister and Aegon, his eldest son - the child he had been longing for, for decades, the child he had never been able to love - lounged upon his seat, his sister-wife on one side and an empty seat on the other, a drink in hand as he gazed at Alaynha with shining eyes.

His eyes found themselves back to his daughter, who stared at him with guilt and admiration hidden in the depths of her eyes - she would seek his praises and his love wherever she could find them, and this time was no different.

***

"Kepa?"

He was giving Alaynha that look again, the look that brought a tumbling feeling of pity to fall into the pit of her stomach - to churn and grind as she tried to not think of all her father had lost, and all she had never been able to have.

She wondered, for a moment, whether it was her mother he saw or Rhaenyra's. There was a part of her tempted to ask, but under the heated gaze of her uncle and the calculating stare of her half-sister, she found herself growing uncomfortable with the attention. She wished to move towards her seat, to sit next to her brothers, where she knew she would be safe from the prying eyes and interrogative nature of Rhaenyra's family.

But Viserys hadn't answered her yet, and she would hate to learn that she upset her father. So she stayed, remaining stood upright as she called to him - "kepa, I do apologise. I must have gotten quite distracted on my dear Tolīmorghon, I fear I did not pay mind to the time."

Ghost.

Daemon's eyes sharpened at the word - he was the Rogue Prince who conquered his dragon when he had just turned a man, the warrior who searched for the fiercest beast to ride alongside in the skies, the Forgotten Heir who was overlooked just as his beast had been, until Daemon had found him - Daemon knew of the dragon the girl spoke of.

He marvelled in quiet admiration, and it was then Viserys spoke. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, preening up to the young girl as though he was seeing her anew - "Alaynha, my dearest. I am most joyous you could join us, your King forgives your delay."

Daemon watched as the girl who stood so brightly amongst them all grew calm at her father's words, hiding the relief she felt behind a broad smile. Still, she stood, a waiting figure as her eyes fell upon them.

Upon him.

Her eyes glittered as they marvelled upon his presence - of all the stories her father had told her, the ones of his younger brother, Daemon, held a special place. To listen to the bouts of his adventures, to see her father's own excitement as he would recount Daemon's fiercest battles. It was all a sight to behold, all occuring within the rare fractions of time her father could breathe without the milk of the poppy being poured down his throat.

Daemon's head was angled towards the table, feigning disinterest for the sake of his wife, who watched him out of her periphery. But Daemon's eyes, violent and brash, traced over the girl who stood in front of him as she unashamedly did so too.

It did not take Viserys long to notice her wandering gaze, a knowing sigh tearing itself from his throat in the form of a scratchy cough. Still, he kept himself composed. He knew of Daemon's proclivities, but he knew that with Rhaenyra bound to him, he would not try his hand at any other maiden. Let alone his youngest niece.

Alaynha glanced back at her father at the sound of his rough cough, cheeks heating as she realised she must've been caught. But still, she waited for her father to address her, "it has been too long, my child. Too long, that you have been apart from your eldest sister. I hope meeting now can make amends for the mistakes of my past."

Viserys had always been vague in his words, but he was even moreso now. There was an awkward silence echoing through the room, as Viserys' words sounded as an affirmation for Alaynha's heritage.

Rhaenyra did not speak, nor smile, nor blink.

Daemon did not break his predatory gaze, hand limp upon the table as he held Rhaenyra's hand within the palm of his own.

"It is nice to finally meet you... sister."

A hesitant smile drew itself across Alaynha's face, but she did not give in to the festering panic within the confines of her chest. She waited, hoping Rhaenyra would speak.

She did not.

Rhaenyra blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Much like her father, Alyanha's words had caused her to see anew. Yet, this time, it seemed as though she was looking through the girl rather than at her.

Alaynha floundered for a moment, eyes straying from Rhaenyra's passive stare to meet the hard, stern look of Aemond. Her brother had not failed to notice Rhaenyra's feigned ignorance, the action causing rage to burn through his seeing eye.

Before Aemond could make his anger known, it was a voice - quiet and slow, a tone so distinct from the violent warrior who spoke that even Rhaenyra held her breath, eyes twitching as she glanced to her left.

It was Daemon who had spoken, Daemon who had replied. Daemon, who did not stray his eyes from the girl that stood, fingers fumbling and eyes darting to-and-fro from her brothers to her estranged sister. It was Daemon who saw her, whilst her own sister pretended as though she was just another Lady of the Court.

Another shadow hidden in the depths of the Keep.

"Niece. I fear my brother's actions have left you estranged from mine own, but no more. We are of one blood, so we are of one family."

His words helped to dull her thudding heart, though his face had a sarcastic smile pasted upon it - as though his words were tasteless and false - there was a smouldering spark of curiosity that set his violet eyes alight.

Alaynha nodded, a polite smile upon her face - "it is good to finally make your acquaintance, Uncle. Father has spoken most graciously of your time in the Keep."

Daemon raised a brow, his hand leaving Rhaenyra's to trace a finger against his lower lip as he suppressed the smirk that began to grow upon his face, "I am sure he has."

He spared Viserys a glance, amusement twinkling in his eyes as he thought of all his immoral and scandalous acts throughout his time in the Keep, and wondered what it was exactly his niece had been told.

Daemon looked back at Alaynha, admired how, despite the stifling sense of discomfort that filled the hall, she still stood - waiting.

But waiting for what?

Daemon instead looked towards his daughters, eyes falling upon Baela and Rhaena as a proud smile stretched across his face - "these are my daughters, Baela and Rhaena - your cousins," his eyes then moved to the boys who sat next to his children. His eyes traced over the dark brown hair of the heirs of Ser Harwin Strong, skimmed over the muddy eyes that sung whispers of their heritage, and continued, "these are their betrotheds, Rhaenyra's sons."

Daemon paused for a second, turning his head towards Rhaenyra. He waited, seeing if she would speak and acknowledge her sister who waited with eager eyes and a pleasant smile, but Rhaenyra's eyes now lay upon her empty plate and the hand he had previously held sat fisted in her lap as she ignored her sister once more.

Daemon cleared his throat, turning towards the boys to nod at each one in turn - "this is Jacaerys. And this is Lucerys, his younger brother."

Lucerys.

The pleasing smile upon her face melted as her expression soured into a look of apprehension, and Daemon tried his best to ignore the nagging feeling that clouded his mind at the sight of such a smile disappearing much too soon.

Her eyes now began to move in earnest, darting between the boy named Lucerys and her brother, Aemond.

She had known Lucerys would be in King's Landing, that she may cross him in the Keep. But she had not thought she would see him now - sat timidly across from her brother, who only seemed to sit straighter as he noticed her horrified glances.

This was Lucerys. The boy who had stolen her brother's eye - the boy who had taken so much from Aemond and not paid a drop of blood in return.

Sure, Aemond had gotten a dragon in return. But to lose a part of yourself such as half your sight, it could not be compensated for, even with a dragon like Vhagar.

Alaynha knew. She knew of how her brother grew somber when he would escort her on walks past rivers and lakes and catch a glimpse of his ghastly reflection. She knew of how her brother would grow short-tempered when he heard the snide remarks of the Ladies and Lords of the Courts, about his scar and patch. She knew of how his tongue grew sharper when he would be reminded of what he had lost, despite what he had gained.

It was Alaynha, with child-like glee, who offered her older brother a sapphire gem. Alaynha who promised if he wore it in place of his unseeing eye, then women would fawn for him from all the Seven Kingdoms. Alaynha who helped him build the courage to remove the blood-stained cloth from the broken and shattered mirror within his chambers, to replace it with one ten times its size, to find love in what he had lost and to embrace it too. It was Alaynha, who had held her brother tearfully as he reassured her in a tone that sounded too much like defeat, who had built her brother back up from the scattered pieces Lucerys had laid to waste.

And now, it was Alaynha who stared at Lucerys, the boy who had broken her brother and changed him into a man, when he only ever had to be a child.

Aemond could see her distress, could see how her eyes clouded as memories of seeing her brother's face - bloody and scarred - shrouded her mind. Aemond wanted to move, wanted to help. He wanted to guide back his dear sister, but he was also stuck in such a dark and pale reverie.

His mind sank into the depths of his childhood without consent, his thoughts incoherent as the reality of today began to meld with the echoes of the past.

So it was Aegon who moved first.

He watched his brother, who sat still with a rigid spine and tensed shoulders, stare at Alaynha with a heavy gaze.

It was Aegon who knew of the insecurities that plagued his brother, and how he had made it worse by trying to help - sending him into the arms of whores who showed him lust and affection, despite his marred face and clumsy hands.

But he could do this. He could help this time.

When Aegon stood, his movements were silent, but as he drew to his full height, Daemon and Rhaenyra could not help but watch him.

He rounded the table and his face grew passive, watching the curious stares of a protective Jacaerys and a guilty Lucerys. He paid them no mind, having waited enough to begin dining that he would use his sister as an excuse to hurry the affairs so he may return to his chambers to indulge in his favoured proclivities.

His steps were graceful, despite his stomach which was sated and heavy with the most favourful of wines. And when he stood in front of Alaynha, drawing her eyes to look upon him, he pretended as though he could not feel the burning gaze of his uncle nor half-sister. He pretended he could not feel the belligerent stare of his grand-sire nor the suspicious gaze of his mother. And, well Viserys had simply not spared him a glance - eyes glazed in a haze of pain as he watched the scene unfold and hoped, deep in his heart, the children he held closest to his heart would care for one another, even if it's for his sake, and not their own.

"Come sister," Aegon's voice was soft, a gentle drone that was nothing like that unsavoury tone he took up with his maids and whores.

"Let us dine, you must be hungry."

Aegon did not let her protest, taking her hand in his as he led her to the table and waited for her to take her seat.

Aegon hesitated, if only for a moment. His gaze crossed the table, and found the deviant stare of his uncle. It was as though he took Daemon's glare as a challenge, and whilst keeping his eyes upon his uncle, Aegon pressed a tender kiss upon the crown of Alaynha's head, before taking his seat at her side.

It was now that Daemon could not control himself, and a vicious smile crossed his face at the actions of his nephew. He sat up, leaning closer towards the table as he nodded towards Aegon - a challenge indeed. But Daemon was not one to lose.

***

The tension had slowly begun to dull, even Rhaenyra had sunk into her seat as she waited for Alicent to finish her prayers before they could dine.

Still, Rhaenyra did not so much as glance up at Alaynha, preferring to lay her hand atop Daemon's and fiddle with his rings as his hand laid in a gentle fist atop the table.

Daemon, on the other hand, careful and observant, let his gaze travel over the newcomer and let his mind fester with theories and tribulations. There was a part of Daemon, dark and troubled, that wanted to know more of the girl.

There was a part of Daemon that had a spark sent through him, and it felt as though he was almost set alight.

It was hard for Alaynha not to notice his shameless stares, and she had tried her best not to meet his eyes despite it seeming as though he wished she did. Her heart pattered at a hurried pace whenever she so much as brushed her vision against the outline of his figure, and she knew if she met his gaze her cheeks would heat in defeat, and such a notion would be hard to dismiss in the face of Alicent and her children.

So she took to watching her brothers converse, but her ears remained listening out for the voice of her uncle - a deep rasp, slow and dangerous. Alaynha found that she would not dislike being on the receiving end of such a voice.

As Alicent's prayers come to an end, her next words have Alaynha's eyes flashing towards her - "and to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest."

Alaynha frowns, "has something happened to Ser Vaemond?"

She knows her words sound naive. It was not hard to guess what had happened to Ser Vaemond, but a part of Alaynha was much more concerned with why.

It was Otto, his face sombre, who spoke gently to the girl, "I fear, dear Princess," begins Otto, "the petition had gotten slightly out of hand - it seems Ser Vaemond Valeryon paid the price with his life."

Though his voice sounded sorrowful, there was a tinge of anger in his words as though he was exasperated by the turn of events that had happened in Alaynha's absence. Perhaps if she had been there, she could have helped prevent the bloodshed.

Before Alaynha could ask him for further clarification, Rhaenyra speaks, "his lies and acts of treason are what sent him to his deathbed."

"Oh," there was a tense silence echoing through the room as Rhaenyra waited to see her youngest sister's reaction to the news. A part of Alaynha wanted to know more, wanted to know what was said. But she could not ask, not like this when her family - old and new - had been at each other's throats since Alicent's betrothal to the King.

Alaynha hesitated for a moment before she continued, "well, mother always says it is a terrible act to lie," she concluded, nodding her head as though she agreed with Rhaenyra's stance, "it is most immoral. Isn't that right, Muña?" Mother.

An indulging smile tugged across Alicent's face, "it is, my sweet."

Alaynha shares a beaming smile with her mother, pleased by her praise, before looking towards her father with pleading eyes, "can we eat now, Kepa? I haven't eaten since I mounted Tolīmorghon."

Viserys lets out a boisterous laugh and concedes, it is the first he has let out after weeks of being subdued by the milk of the poppy.

And it is the first laugh, a true and melodic sound, that Daemon had heard escape from his brother since Aemma had passed.

His heart picked up at the sound, his eyes finding the grinning face of his brother as Viserys stared across the table, eyes shining with a jovial sense of joy, towards his youngest daughter and sweetest child.

Daemon chose then to stare at her, too. He found himself tracing over her every feature, as though he was committing her to memory so he could never forget.

Daemon had been the one insistent they return to Dragonstone as soon as the matter of Driftmark has been settled. His wife had wished to remain upon King's Landing for a moon or so, to remain close to her father as she grew closer to her labours.

He now sees Rhaenyra, who darted her gaze between her lively father and beaming half-sister, and believes they may switched positions entirely.

There is an itching shadow in the confines of Daemon's mind, a man starved and raging, that grew stronger as he continued to let the thoughts of his niece wander in his mind.

Daemon fears he would not leave King's Landing as the same man he returned as.

He feared he did not want to leave at all.

Taglist: @kelssssxd @esquivelbianca @chynagirl13 @luanasrta @kemillyfreitas @americanprometheuss @clarap23 @pet1t3